Backstage Beginnings
Page 2
BY THE TIME JACK DECIDED he really, really needed to text Andrew again, he’d gotten Christian on the floor on his knees. He still had his shoes on, and his pants and his briefs, although they were down around his shins and his cock was red and slick with enthusiasm. Guitar cable only went so far, but Jack had used it all to secure Christian’s wrists behind his back. It was probably bad for the cable, but that was replaceable, unlike moments of foolish, sexy, bravery like this.
“Calling for backup?” Christian said, smug and a little proud.
It was a challenge, and a reminder of who was and wasn’t really in charge here. In an odd way, Jack found that reassuring. It was one thing to have the presence to subdue an audience on screen; it was quite another to have it in a small, not-private-enough room with a hard dick trapped in your jeans and a much more experienced partner on his knees.
“And an audience,” Jack replied, hoping bravado would carry the moment.
He left his phone on the counter, knelt on the floor in front of Christian and kissed him, mainly to cover his own nerves. Not that Christian wasn’t already well aware of them by now. Sudden, for a first kiss, maybe. But they’d been talking longer than Jack had with more than one person he’d met at a club and then enjoyed more intimately.
Christian made a pleased sort of sound in his throat that Jack could feel and tilted his head just slightly. Suddenly all thoughts of previous encounters—or the rest of the world—fled from Jack’s mind.
Eventually, there was a tap on the door. Jack startled but couldn’t bring himself to break the kiss. All he could do was hope it was Andrew and not some member of the venue staff.
Fortunately, Andrew’s familiar voice came through the door. “You guys in there?” Before Jack could answer, the door opened. “Holy shit.”
From the corner of his eye Jack saw him drag a hand through his hair and stare for a long moment before finally getting his brain together enough to actually step into the room and close the door behind him. Firmly.
Jack pulled back with a last nip to Christian’s mouth. He looked over his shoulder, suddenly nervous. “We took you at your word, I hope this is—”
“It’s fine, Jack. It’s fine.” Andrew smiled. “I like seeing people I like make each other happy.” He spoke like the situation was simple, and maybe it was. Jack hoped it was. It probably wasn’t, but they’d sort that out at a moment not this one.
“Are you going to help or are you going to stare?” he asked. He had Christian panting and he had Andrew’s approval, but he wanted more of both.
“Looks like you’re doing fine on your own. And totally worth staring at.”
“Andrew,” Christian said, firm but breathless.
“Mm?”
“Help the boy out.”
“Not if you’re going to be rude about it,” Andrew teased.
“Please?” Christian and Jack said in unison, though in entirely distinct tones of teasing and aggrievement. They exchanged a look, and Jack considered that maybe this night was going to get even more enjoyable than it already promised to be.
Andrew snagged a pair of headphones off the top of a precariously balanced stack of equipment. He settled the headphones down over Christian’s ears and plugged them into his own phone. Jack watched as Christian stared up at Andrew, eager and trusting. The display was beautiful and Jack hated to tear himself away from it, but Andrew wanted his attention.
“I want us to be able to plot without him hearing us. And I want him to get lost in what we do,” Andrew said. Christian nodded his agreement, and Jack assumed they’d played this game before.
Before starting the playlist, Andrew tilted the screen so Jack could see the music he’d chosen—one of his dirtier playlists.
“Say when,” Andrew said to Christian, hitting play and then turning the volume up slowly. “I don’t want to blow out your eardrums but I also I don’t want you to be able to hear anything but the music.”
Christian sighed and closed his eyes, his body relaxing even as his dick twitched up, searching.
“How are you doing?” Andrew asked Jack casually once it was clear Christian had checked out and into his own world of pleasure.
Jack gaped and gestured to Christian. “Seriously? Your boyfriend is half-naked at my feet, how do you think I’m doing?”
Andrew held up his hands and stepped back. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Jack sighed. It felt like a test. Not necessarily an unkind one, or one he didn’t want, but still one he didn’t feel likely to pass. At least he could distract himself with Christian’s dick. He tried to forget the degree to which he was pinned under Andrew’s appraising gaze as he ran a nail gently up the underside of it.
Christian moaned, arched his back, and tipped his head up. His eyelashes fluttered, and Jack pulled his own t-shirt off before pressing his fingers to Christian’s lips. He shushed him, softly, not that Christian could hear him anyway, and then tied his shirt across the upper half of Christian’s face, a makeshift blindfold.
Jack got a yes for his trouble, Christian’s mouth open and wanting after the words and Jack’s fingers were gone.
Andrew unzipped his pants. Jack turned at the sound.
“Don’t mind me,” he said with a shrug.
As much as Jack had never been particularly dominant, he’d also never been particularly submissive. Right now, though, he was more than a little tempted to wrap his mouth around Andrew’s cock, dark and uncut. It would be so much easier. But Christian would also be so lost without him.
He bent down to take Christian’s dick in his mouth instead, the scent of sweat and the taste of bitterness making him feel high.
Christian struggled against the audio cable, trying to get a hand free to do—what, Jack didn’t know, but he liked all the ideas that occurred to him. When that didn’t get Christian anywhere, though, he braced his hands on his ankles and pushed up, trying to get more that way instead.
Jack pulled back, coughing. “Hey, no,” he spluttered, before undoing the mess of tangled cord around Christian’s arms. This time he tied it more neatly. He saved a last cable to loop from the bonds at his wrists around the jeans, twisting and tying it so that he was trapped by the ankles.
Satisfied, he pulled the headphones away from Christian’s left ear and whispered, “This ends how I say, and it goes ’til it’s over.”
Christian nodded frantically and sagged in surrender.
Jack didn’t think he’d ever been harder. He palmed at his own crotch, wanting relief and knowing none of them had earned it yet.
“He tried to fuck your mouth,” Andrew said, his breath hitching as he continued to toy with his own cock. “Fuck his.”
It took Jack a second to realize he was talking about Christian squirming—he’d been too distracted watching Andrew. Once he figured it out he scrambled to his knees, cupped the back of Christian’s head and pressed his face to his own still-clothed crotch. His own breath was shallow; this was a lot of sensation, both physically and emotionally. Christian moaned and twisted his neck this way and that to rub against Jack; it felt delightful and dirty.
“Keep an eye on his cock,” Andrew added, “unless you want him to come just from you using him.”
“Jesus,” Jack murmured. It occurred to him that never working with Andrew, might not actually mean never being directed by him. He had to admit he really, really liked the idea.
“At home I make him lick it off the floor when he does that,” Andrew continued, his own hand tightening and speeding up. “But this place is filthy.”
Christian was now mouthing wet spots onto the front of Jack’s jeans and moaning steadily. “Think we could try this there someday?” Jack gasped out. Which was not what had been on offer when they had started this, but, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
“We should,” Andrew said casually.
After another long, lingering look at him, Jack brushed the issue off and shoved Christian back just enough to undo his jeans
. He rubbed the wet head of his dick across Christian’s mouth and cheek and chin several times, pulling back every time Christian tried to suck him in.
When he finally did feed Christian his cock, he wondered what it was like, being in the dark, being lost to the music, being bound and not being able to have anything he wanted as a way of getting exactly what he wanted. It was a strange fantasy to couple with holding Christian’s head still and fucking his mouth at first shallowly, and then when it became clear he could take it and wanted more, deeper and deeper.
Jack kept his eyes down, eager to see himself disappear between Christian’s shiny and swollen lips, but also fascinated by the silver of his hair and how his tattoos move on straining muscles. Christian’s cock dripped and fucked against the air, searching for anything.
He pressed the toe of his shoe up against Christian’s balls. It earned him a hiss, but Christian only searched for more contact. Jack angled his leg so he can get more friction, and Christian immediately took the offer. When Jack pulled his cock out of Christian’s mouth, he kept trying to chase it, but Jack pulled sharply on his hair and said no, while he worked himself with his other hand.
When Christian came across the leg of Jack’s jeans and his shoes, shuddering and trying not to despite how hard he was working for it, Jack pulled off the blindfold and steered his mouth to the mess. The floor may have been filthy, as Andrew had noted, but his clothes, even the distressed leather of his too-hip oxfords, weren’t. Christian blinked up at him with huge and vulnerable eyes. It was sort of unfocused, like looking at somewhere, somewhen, someone else for Jack, and it was exceedingly hot. Christian knew exactly what he was expected to do.
If they were at Christian and Andrew’s house, Jack wondered how long it would be possible to keep him like this. With that thought and Christian awkwardly bent at the hip to lick his own come off Jack’s shoes, Jack finally let go, painting ribbons of white through Christian’s hair. He’ll have to ride home in the car that way, Jack thought even as he carded his fingers through the mess.
It took Andrew a moment to get to them. That he was still hard himself probably didn’t make it any easier for him. As soon as he reached them, Andrew went to his knees and pulled Jack after him. He fumbled for his iPhone, turning the volume down slowly. Once Christian has the headphones off, Jack set to untying the audio cords so Christian could at least shift onto his hip from his knees and move his arms again. Andrew murmured against his ear about how good he was, how hot, how made to be used and he knows it Christian is.
Jack wasn’t quite sure if Andrew was trying to keep him in the scene or bring him out of it until he heard him murmur, “Do you need to suck my cock too?”
“Yes, but not like this,” Christian said, his voice raspy from non-verbal use.
Andrew gave him a quizzical look, more curious than concerned.
“Jack, then you,” Christian tried, “and then I’m going to want everyone out there to come through that door for their turn. And I can’t, we can’t—” he trailed off.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Andrew said, letting Christian rest his head on his thigh just inches from his softening but still exposed cock. “That was a big scene. New things, all around. I’ll be fine, plus it’s not like Jack here doesn’t have hands,” Andrew joked.
Jack watched in awe as Christian blinked, eyes settling back into the shrewd, catty, and enigmatic man Andrew had sent him in here to enjoy.
“I said yes,” Christian reiterated, sitting up and shoving Andrew onto his back. Andrew landed with an oof and a chuckle. Christian hovered over his cock for a moment, hands pressed firmly into Andrew’s hip bones, keeping him on the floor. But before he let his mouth slip down around him, he looked at Jack.
“Want to do me a favor?” he asked.
“What?” Jack said, wary and worried he was going to have to deal with the mess he’d made of Christian’s gear.
“Hold his wrists down for me,” Christian said, his smile sly and feral.
Christian laughed when Jack nodded eagerly, and Andrew grinned and craned his neck back so Jack can give him an awkward upside down kiss before sliding his hands along his arms.
He leaned his weight into it, and Christian held his gaze and gave him a proud look before he sank down over Andrew. All they needed now was ten more minutes locked away together before someone pounded on or worse, broke down the dressing room door.
And after that...they’d figure it out. Maybe over brunch.
Thank you for reading Backstage Beginnings
For more information about Racheline Maltese & Erin McRae’s work, visit their website at www.Avian30.com. You can sign up for their newsletter to be the first to hear about sales and new releases, or support their Support their Patreon for deleted scenes, trunked manuscripts, process updates, craft posts, opportunities to name characters and more.
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Also By Erin McRae
Backstage Beginnings
Also By Erin McRae
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